grief is weird because you could be having a totally normal day, begrudgingly getting ready to go to work even though you know the walk will do you good, a walk will always do you good, and then you step outside and you’re hit with the first 55 degree day in months, and in that moment, you decide to walk the full way to the train instead of taking the bus, and as you turn the corner that one song that was both of yours is the first to come up on shuffle, so you listen, and you’re off on your way now and you’re closing your eyes soaking up the sun that hasn’t felt this warm in so long and suddenly you’re thinking man, you would’ve loved this day.
and so you listen to the song that you used to listen to together and get a flash of you two in the car, with you driving and her in the passenger seat, and when you open your eyes and look to your right of course she’s not there but you can feel her. and so you’re hit by that sadness that nestles beneath your ribs, that quickens and falters like it’s own separate heartbeat, and you’re crying but your eyes are smiling because you’re remembering. you’re remembering her voice like it were blasting through your headphones and you’re remembering the way she’d walk by your side and what she’d do with her arms, what she’d probably say on a day like today and what you’d say back. you’re glad for the sad because you feel her enough to miss her this much, and isn’t that what you wanted?
and then the song ends so you play it again, and again, and again.
pixelskylines
baratheonpilled
kaledo-art
gummygunk
areudirty
dailybridgerton
jacobvanloon
stormborns
